The Worldly Widow (33 page)

"Public humiliation is not a set-down, Annabelle, as your own conscience should tell you.
"

There was a silence. Her con
science dutifully prodded her. "
I beg your pardon,
"
she said, though the words almost choked her. But just to make sure that he understood, though she was sorry for the harm she had meant to do him, she had not forgiven him for stealing her business from under her nose, she added for good measure, "But what
you
did was unforgivable!
"

After an interval his eyebrows rose. "And that is all the apology you think I deserve?
"

"No harm was done,
"
she pointed out, on the defensive.

"Through no thanks to you. Moreover, you gave me your promise that what happened between us in the world of business would be kept separate from our private lives. You broke that promise, or tried to.
"

His softly spoken words acted on her like a scourge. She could scarcely believe that she was her father
'
s daughter. That she, Annabelle Summers Jocelyn, in a fit of temper, should stoop to such a level merely to revenge herself for his backhanded turn was a lowering thought. She
'
d considered herself, once, above such pettiness. But oh, the man was clever! He
'
d fenced her in at every turn. The truth of the
matter was that she
'
d never expected that Dalmar, a mere novice, could best her in her own game.

"I wouldn
'
t have gone through with it,
"
she said. "I tried to stop you, but you ignored my warning. You, on the other hand, had no scruples about shaming me in public.
"

"Nonsense! Your credit has climbed. People always admire those who poke fun at themselves.
"

"Only I wasn
'
t poking fun at myself!
"
she cried out.

"Ah. That stung, did it? Should I feel sorry for you after what you tried to do to me?
"

Something in his voice, some emotion, arrested her. She darted a quick glance at him, then looked away. "I never meant to hurt you,
"
she said miserably. "I only meant to take you down a peg or two. Won
'
t you let it go at that?
"

"No. I won
'
t,
"
he said, and smiled the strangest smile.

After a moment, Annabelle rose to her feet. "Nothing more can be served by this conversation,
"
she said. "I
'
d be obliged if you would send the notice to
The Gazette
terminating our engagement. If you wish to delay a week or two, for appearances
'
sake, I have no objection.
"

She began to remove his engagement ring, but he prevented it. "Annabelle,
"
he said so softly that she had to strain to hear him, "don
'
t make me lose my patience.
"

He
'
d thought himself so very clever in extracting a promise from her that what happened in the sphere of business was to be kept separate from their personal lives. He
'
d miscalculated. Evidently Annabelle had no intention of honoring that promise. And he had no intention of letting her break it. An appeal to her sense of fair play had failed to sway her. She was leaving him no option but to use the only other tactic he held in reserve.

"You do want to marry me,
"
he said softly. "I
'
ll prove it to you.
"

She swallowed hard and tried to back away from him. His arms circled her waist and tightened. "Don
'
t!
"
she said in a hoarse whisper.

Annabelle had been living on nerves for the better part of that long, interminable day. In the last several hours, one emotion after the other, in quick succession, had held her in its
grip—fury at Dalmar
'
s duplicity; self-disgust at her own gullibility; shame at the paltry revenge she had meant to exact, and finally an emotion which she abhorred—self-pity. Through it all she had managed to project her habitual air of composure. That composure was very close to disintegrating. All she wanted, she thought, was a quiet hole she could crawl into, where she might lick her wounds in private. She was very close to tears. Dalmar
'
s arms closed around her. She halfheartedly made a move to escape, then the feel of those strong, comforting arms was too much to resist. She melted against him.

His hand cupped her head, and he used his lips and tongue to evoke memories of the time she had surrendered everything to him. He wasn
'
t going to take her all the way, he decided. But when he was done with her, she would never again deny that she belonged to him.

He
'
d forgotten how sweet she tasted, how soft she was in his arms. She wasn
'
t supposed to open her lips to get more of him; she wasn
'
t supposed to melt against him like warm honey. And when she made that familiar, low moan of surrender at the back of her throat, he wasn
'
t supposed to go mad with wanting her.

His hands were desperate to relearn every intimate secret of her body. It had been so long, so damned long, since he
'
d taken her, and for months he had been living the life of a monk. Oh God, he should have known that once he put his hands on her, there could be no turning back.

Her body was trembling, her desire rising to match his own. He could taste it in her mouth, feel it as she arched instinctively into each caress of his hands. Lifting his head, he looked down at her.

Her lips were parted and red and swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark and dreamy. He could tell by looking at her that her body was ready to receive him. His hands slid to her hips, and he dragged her into the cradle of his thighs, showing her that he was ready for her too.

"David,
"
she gasped softly. "Oh David.
"

"Don
'
t tell me to stop now,
"
he groaned. "I don
'
t think I can. And you don
'
t want me to.
"
And he hungrily kissed away
the last shreds of her resistance. "Oh God, Annahelle, I need you so damn much.
"

His chest was heaving when he finally pulled away from her.
"
You
'
re coming with me,
"
he said, "and I
'
m not taking no for an answer.
"

She knew, in the carriage, that he had no intentions of taking her home. She might have pleaded with him, or done any number of things to make him change his mind. She didn
'
t do a single thing. She didn
'
t want to.

It wasn
'
t his skillful, passionate lovemaking that had seduced her, she thought, but that overwhelming need she always sensed in him whenever he took her into his arms. More than the pleasure of her body, this lonely, contradictory man needed a woman
'
s loving. It was an appeal that never failed to work on her. He could be infuriating. And he could be so irresistibly vulnerable.

He
'
d told her once, in passing, and as if it were of no moment, that the happiest years of his life had been spent with Wellington. It didn
'
t take much intelligence to deduce that he had never enjoyed the comforts and security of an ordinary home. He
'
d had to grow up too fast and too soon. She couldn
'
t imagine it. All her life she
'
d had to struggle against the suffocating restraints imposed by those who loved her in order to gain a modicum of independence. He
'
d been a boy when manhood had been thrust upon him. And she ached for the pity of it.

Sighing, confused by a press of conflicting emotions, she stared at him wordlessly and waited for events to unfold.

The house he brought her to was in Kensington. Without saying a word, she allowed him to escort her over the threshold.

"It
'
s not really mine,
"
he told her, the first words he had spoken since they
'
d left Cavendish Square. "It belonged to my uncle. He was a bachelor. Once, before I met you, I thought I might have a use for it. Now it
'
s up for sale.
"

He left her in the small dark hallway whilst he went away to inform the caretakers of his presence. He returned with a brace of candles.

"David
…
I never meant
…
"
The rest of her words were
said to his chest. He crushed her to him with his free arm, half supporting her as he swept her up the narrow staircase.

In the bedroom, he left her to light several candles about the room. Finally, he threw his greatcoat over the back of a chair and sat down on the bed.

He held out a hand to her. "Come to me,
"
he said in a voice so low, so indistinct, she scarcely recognized it.

Annabelle stayed where she was. At the moment of truth, she was plagued by second thoughts. She knew that if she surrendered herself to him, there would be no going back. And though her heart urged her to give in to him, vestiges of common sense held her in check. Dalmar wanted a woman he could control. She would never permit anyone to order her conduct. If they married, she could foresee endless battles ahead of them.

"Annabelle,
"
he said slowly, patiently, "come to me.
"

"Can
'
t we just talk about it?
"
she prevaricated, and came one step closer.

"Words just get in the way. And you don
'
t want to talk any more than I do.
"

She stared at those silver eyes unblinkingly. "David,
"
she said again, earnestly, sincerely, "breaking an engagement isn
'
t so serious a thing. Scores of people have done it. In the morning, you
'
ll see things differently. You
'
ll be glad that you
'
re not marrying a hoyden. Just look at me!
"
As if to make her point, she slipped her mantle from her shoulders.

"Annabelle!
"
he commanded, losing patience.

"I use rouge. I darken my lashes and brows. I dye my hair. Did you know that? I almost never wear drawers or petticoats. And I
'
m not going to change for any man. You should marry someone like Lady Diana. She
'
s young, beautiful, proper, and just perfect for you. Think about it, David. I
'
ll make your life miserable.
"
She choked back a betraying sob.

He threw himself down on the bed and flung the back of one hand over his eyes. "Annabelle,
"
he gritted, "will you get the hell over here?
"

"Oh Devil!
"
she said, weeping, and threw herself into his arms.

Those strong arms clamped around her and rolled her under
him. One by one he removed the pins from her hair and tossed them onto the floor. Long fingers combed through her hair, then brought her face up for his kiss.

His eyes traveled her face and the laughter in them gradually faded. "Sweet,
"
he said. "You
'
re so sweet. Don
'
t you know I love you just the way you are?
"
And he kissed her tears away.

His lips claimed hers, and she wondered that so much hunger, so deep a longing, could be contained in one kiss.

"I shouldn
'
t,
"
he groaned. "But I can
'
t help myself.
"
And his mouth slammed onto hers, as if to cut off any protest she might think to make.

Though she
'
d been married once, Annabelle
'
s experience was very limited. She thought she might be as awkward as a green girl. But everything seemed so natural. She loved the feel of those broad shoulders beneath the sensitive pads of her fingers. She loved his taut waist and slim flanks. She loved the crisp texture of his hair. She wrapped her arms around him and answered the demand in his kiss.